


Good Day

by Dmarie_934



Series: Good Day [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5679448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmarie_934/pseuds/Dmarie_934
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A telling of one of  Katniss's bad days by her daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hi people! This is my first fanfic, so please be kind about it. Send tips and suggestions.  
> The next chapter will be from Rye's point of view.  
> ***I AM SO NEW TO WRITTING FANFICTION SO THERE MIGHT BE SOME MISTAKES I MIGHT HAVE MISSED***

Sunshine trickles in through the open window. I open my eyes and lay in bed for a moment, listening to the birds outside. My room is painted with a soft orange. Everything is calm. As I sit up and look through the window, I see my brother Rye is already awake and on his way into town. His soft blonde hair tousled in the soft wind. The sky is clear and the forest is beginning to come alive. The mockingjays are especially active at this hour. It looks like a good day for hunting. I can ask mom to go with me. Or maybe I can set up an easel in the yard to paint. the possibilities are endless.

_"NOOOOOOOO!"._

I jump, nearly out of my own skin.  _What was that? Who was that?_ I think as I climb out of my bed. I grab my robe from the back of my door and step out of my room to investigate. The hallway floor is cold under my feet. It grows colder as I come to recognize the scream.

It's my mother.

I rush across the hallway into my parents room, concern blooming fast inside of me. _What could have happened this early in the morning?_. My mother is writhing in the midst of one of her nightmares. This calms me enough to take note of the situation. _It's good that I have always been able to do this,_ I think. She is covered in sweat and tangled in her sheets. Her single braid has unraveled during the night, and the loose hair sticks to her face. Her thin body is a stark contrast to her growing belly. I look around for my father, but instead I see a note on the bedside table.

_Emergency at the bakery. Had to go in early. Be back by noon. - Peeta_

The note is clearly meant for my mother, but it is of no use to her now. Or to me as I think about it. How am I supposed to deal with this on my own? Dad won't be here for at least another hour and-

"PRIM! NO DON'T LEAVE ME! HAYMITCH WHERE ARE YOU GOING? DONT WALK AWAY FROM ME PLEASE EITHER OF YOU!"

I climb in the bed next to my mom, careful to avoid her flailing arms. As if she feels my presence, her writhing reduces to shaking. Just enough for me to get a hold on her. I hug her and say to her that it will be alright, that whatever it is, it isn't real. As I say this, she calms considerably. Her shaking stops. Her eyes open slowly and stare blankly up at the ceiling. She mumbles under her breath the same thing over and over. And that is when I remember. There will be no hunting with mom or painting today for me.

It's Aunt Prim's birthday.

How did I forget.

"I'm sorry Prim, I'm sorry...."

I slowly get out of the bed, careful not to disturb mom. I silently leave the room, and shut the door behind me softly. I need to search for the single phone in the house. We barely use it so it's a struggle to find. _I need to tell dad what just happened_. Mom tries hard to function on this day. She tells me about how wonderful Aunty Prim was. But mom never tells me exactly what happened to her. Instead she tells me that she has been gone since before I was born. I am about to turn sixteen however, and she'll have to tell me eventually.

She also hasn't let herself grieve after Uncle Haymitch's death a few days before. She claims not to he truly liked him but I know that she cares. Alcohol poisoning. I never thought that he would go back to the bottle. Aunt Effie was so distraught, she went back to the capitol to allow herself to grieve in her own way. After all it was her idea for a party. Someone had brought bottles of the hard stuff. It all went downhill from there.

I find the phone tucked in the corner of Dad's studio. I guess dad remembered today and hid the phone from mom. She hates the phone and its sound. I plug it in and dial the bakery.

_"Mellark Bakery, how can I help you?"_ Luckily it's my father who answers. I can tell from his distracted humming.

"Dad mom just had a nightmare and I don't know what to do." I sound panicked and my tone surprises myself. I thought I was okay.

There's a pause in his tune. Then a sigh.

_"I should have known not to leave today. How is she doing now, Willow?"_

"She's awake but she's staring into space. Its like she sees right through me. She's whispering though, so could that be a good thing?"

_"That depends, What exactly is she saying?"_

I recount her screams, then her whispered apologies and from his silence I can ell that this is not good. I hear him close an oven. Then Talk to Rory, his Second in command.

_"Rory can you finish up here? I gotta take care of some stuff back home. Its really important."_

I don't hear a response, but I assume that it was yes because Dad says _"I'll be home in ten minutes Willow. Stay with your mom until then."_

"Okay dad", and I hang up the phone. I unplug the phone and head back to my parents room.

I don't get in the bed this time. I sit on the window ledge instead. My mom is breathing steadily, as if she were asleep. But I know she isn't. _I wonder why mom and dad waited so long for another baby ._ My mother is not old in any sense of the word, but her body is aging. Then add her petite stature, and I wonder how she managed to bear my brother and myself. She isn't very far along actually, but her small body makes the baby bump seem larger. I stare at her for a while, then turn my attention to watching for dad.

Dad is home in less than ten minutes.

It is a thing of wonder, how fast he moves with his prosthetic when he has motivation. I hear his uneven foot steps come up the stairs, nearly in a run. When he comes into the room, his face immediately goes somber. His blue eyes roam over her body to check for harm. He rakes his hands through his blonde hair, then he advances tentatively towards the bed. I realize now it is time for me to leave the room. My dad reaches towards my mom but his eyes find mine in a silent look of gratitude. I nod and head out of the room. As I close the door behind me I hear my dad whispering to my mom trying to get her to pay attention, to look at him, anything.

"Katniss can you hear me? It's Peeta. You need to get up."

I go in my room, lay on my bed and almost immediately fall asleep again. But not before I reach for my journal. It has a dandelion painted on the front by my father. My mom told me once that my dad reminded her of a dandelion in the spring time. I sigh and open the book to a clean page. I use this book to record my thoughts, sketches, and even occasional short stories. Today, I just need to clear my head. Slowly, I recount the morning with as much detail as possible. This act of storytelling eases my mind enough for me to rest again. This morning was emotionally draining for me.

_Maybe this was all just a bad dream. If you go back to sleep, Uncle Haymitch and Aunt Effie will be back and mom will be ok. Even if it isn't I cant tell Rye. He shouldn't have to see this._

And then I am sleeping again. With this new hope for a kinder tomorrow easing me into oblivion.


End file.
